Oath of Honor Read online

  at the House to report at zero eight hundred tomorrow.”

  “WST.”

  “I’m sorry?” Wes shoved her phone back in her pocket.

  “Washburn Standard Time. Which means pretty much any time.”

  “Well, I guess I’m going to get the last of my security clearance

  taken care of.”

  “Formality. You wouldn’t be here if there was any question.” Evyn

  rose. “I guess that’s our signal to get moving.”

  “I suppose,” Wes said, rising with a twinge of regret. She shrugged

  into her topcoat while Evyn sorted through bills and left money for the

  bill on the table. Out of habit, Wes reached over, lifted Evyn’s black

  raincoat from the hook beside their booth, and held it open for her.

  Evyn hesitated, then turned and slid her arms into the coat.

  “Thanks,” Evyn said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Evyn turned, her eyes finding Wes’s. It was way too late to pretend

  • 54 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  they were just grabbing dinner, and with any other woman she wouldn’t

  hesitate. But then Wes wasn’t like any other woman she’d ever met. She

  should have kept her mouth shut, but words popped out. “Nightcap?”

  Wes glanced left into the bar, mostly empty now, shortly before

  closing. She was oddly not tired, even though she’d been on the move

  for eighteen hours. She’d spent more time with Evyn than she had with

  anyone in months and hadn’t even noticed the time passing. Maybe she

  should take that as a sign. She shook her head. “I’d like to, but I’ve got

  a really early morning tomorrow.”

  Evyn smiled crookedly. Saved. She should take that as a sign.

  “Yeah, me too.” She started walking toward the door. “Where are you

  staying?”

  Wes angled beside her, pushed the door open, and held it as Evyn

  passed through. “The Marriott across town.”

  “A hotel? You shouldn’t be staying in a hotel. O’Shaughnessy had

  an apartment that came with the job.”

  Wes smiled at Evyn’s indignation on her account. “I wasn’t

  supposed to be here tonight at all, but Lucinda Washburn wanted me

  on-site. So here I am.”

  “Well, what she wants is law.”

  “I gathered.” Wes fell into step as they walked toward the T-Bird

  down the block. “I don’t usually get my orders at zero one hundred.”

  Evyn laughed, opened the driver’s door, and slid in. Wes skirted

  around the other side and settled in the passenger seat. “You’ll have to

  get used to that.”

  “The text orders, or the no-notice thing?” Wes clipped her seat belt

  and stretched her legs out under the dash.

  Evyn started the car and pulled out. “Both. When she wants

  something done, it means now or five minutes ago.”

  “Sounds like it’s pretty much twenty-four seven call. Feels like

  being a resident again.”

  “And here you thought you were getting this fancy title and a

  cushy job,” Evyn teased.

  Wes laughed. “I was hoping for a big corner office and a lot of

  fanfare.”

  “I’ll just bet.” Evyn glanced at her. “What were you really

  expecting?”

  “Truthfully? I don’t have a clue. Until a day and a half ago, I

  • 55 •

  RADCLY fFE

  thought my next posting would be another academic position. All I

  know about this one is that I’m going to get to see the world, just like

  the recruiters always promised me.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” Evyn snorted. “It’s a campaign year,

  remember? You’re going to see so many cornfields and listen to so

  many boring speeches you’re going to wish you were anywhere else

  doing anything else.”

  “Thanks for the inspirational speech. I can’t wait.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been on the campaign trail in an election year. Prepare

  to be perpetually tired, poorly fed, and probably verbally abused.”

  “Got it. I imagine it’s pretty tense for you.”

  “No more so than usual,” Evyn said flatly.

  “Right.” Wes was getting used to the way Evyn deflected anything

  personal. Obviously, the Secret Service never showed weakness. Or

  maybe that was just Evyn. Wes wondered just how much that shield of

  invulnerability cost her and if she ever let down her defenses.

  Evyn slowed at an intersection, turned right, and looked over at

  Wes. “It’s tough, but exhilarating too, you know? Being right there.

  Being part of something big.”

  “I think I understand. I’m used to being behind the scenes.

  Observing.”

  “That’s all about to change, Captain.”

  Wes stared at Evyn’s profile, aglow in the moonlight. “I think it

  already has.”

  • 56 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  chapter seven

  Here you go,” Evyn said, lifting Wes’s overnight bag out of

  the trunk.

  “Thanks.” Wes took it from her and slung the strap over her

  right shoulder. The T-Bird idled in the turnaround of the Marriott. The

  marquee lights over the entrance had been dimmed, leaving them in

  fractured shadow. The sliding glass doors behind them whooshed open,

  and a voice called, “Need help with bags?”

  “I’ve got it, thanks,” Wes said without turning around. Evyn stood

  a foot away, one hand resting on the edge of the open trunk lid. Wes

  searched for something more to say, but she didn’t know where to start.

  The last few hours had been different than any time she’d ever spent with

  anyone. She’d had hundreds of meals with colleagues, in the hospital,

  on board ship, in the field. When those conversations ended, she moved

  on, rarely giving the oft-times pleasant but superficial encounters

  another thought. But she didn’t want this evening to end. Her reaction

  was so foreign she couldn’t sort out wishes from reality. How could she

  be uncomfortable and feel so energized at the same time?

  She wasn’t a spontaneous person—she was a planner, always

  prepared for any contingency, always following the most efficient

  path. She’d always known what she needed to do to achieve her goals.

  She’d learned from watching her mother deal with challenges head-

  on, working hard, never bowing before adversity or buckling under

  seemingly insurmountable odds. As long as she could remember, she’d

  looked forward, she’d worked toward the future. She didn’t have a

  lot of practice living in the moment. “Thanks for the ride. And the…

  dinner.”

  • 57 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “No problem.” No subtle suggestion as to what came next

  resonated in Evyn’s tone, but her gaze never strayed from Wes’s.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Wes said, still not moving. Evyn

  hadn’t moved either. Wes’s skin tingled as if charged with current ready

  to snap. There was more—a next move she couldn’t grasp, words just

  out of reach. Her nerves vibrated at the sensation of a bubble closing

  down around them, isolating them, a fragile gossamer barrier that held

  them suspended in their own world. She wondered if she turned and

&
nbsp; walked away if the bubble would burst and they would never again

  share an unguarded moment. She didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t

  have any choice. Tomorrow, everything would change. She had no

  choice but to fall back on what had always worked, on the one thing

  she could depend upon. Doing her duty, fulfilling her obligations. “I’ll

  report to you after my interview.”

  “Unless POTUS goes off schedule, I’ll be in the command center.

  Text me. I’ll find you.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that.” Wes backed up and the shimmering enclosure

  shattered. Evyn slammed the trunk closed. They were agent and doctor

  again. “Good night.”

  “’Night,” Evyn called, walking around to the driver’s door. She

  slid in without another glance.

  Wes turned and walked toward the waiting bellman.

  “You have that, Captain?” the bellman said, pointing to her bag.

  “Yes,” Wes replied as the sound of the T-Bird’s powerful engine

  faded behind her. “Everything’s under control.”

  v

  Evyn made quick time through the nearly empty streets to I-495

  and down to her condo in Alexandria, VA. She pulled into her slot in

  the residents’ parking garage, grabbed her go bag, and took the stairs up

  to her third-floor, one-bedroom unit. When she let herself in, she was

  greeted with a plaintive and highly offended cry. “I haven’t been gone

  that long, and I know you’re not starving, so you might as well forget

  the theatrics.”

  A sinuous gray shadow eased around the counter that separated the

  big living room from the galley-style kitchen. Ricochet jumped up onto

  the back of the sofa and proceeded to ignore her. She dropped her bag

  • 58 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  by the closet holding the stacked washer-dryer, passed behind the couch

  on her way to the kitchen, and scooped up the cat. He didn’t like it when

  she was away, but he liked attention too much to feign indifference and

  immediately began to rumble, a rollicking purr that vibrated into her

  chest. Absently, she rubbed her cheek against the top of his head and

  pulled the refrigerator door open. She extracted a bottle of Turbo Dog,

  popped the top on an old-style Coke bottle opener screwed to the wall

  underneath the adjacent cabinet, and took a long swallow. She checked

  the floor—his water and food bowls were full. She poked his lean belly.

  “Definitely not starving.”

  He kneaded her shoulder through her shirt as she ambled back

  into the living area and flopped on the couch. She didn’t bother with

  the lights—she knew her way around the place in the semi-darkness.

  Propping her feet on the scarred and scraped oak coffee table she’d

  been carting around since college, she stared out the glass balcony

  doors and sipped her beer. Usually she watched a little aimless TV until

  she unwound enough to fall asleep, but tonight she had something else

  to occupy her—Wes Masters lingered in her mind.

  “So,” she said to Ricochet, “I met the new chief medical officer

  today. Very spit-and-polish shiny. Ought to be interesting to see how

  she fits in at the House.” Ricochet curled up in a ball on her lap and

  proceeded to lick his paws. She traced a finger around the back of each

  ear and he continued to purr. “I’m supposed to bring her up to speed

  on protocol.”

  Ricochet paused in his washings, one paw elevated, and blinked

  at her.“Yeah, yeah. I know. Not what I want to be doing.” Evyn set the

  bottle on the wooden arm of the sofa and turned it slowly. Dinner had

  probably been a mistake. She’d gone on impulse because she didn’t

  have anything better to do, and after a long day of travel and intermittent

  boredom, broken by moments of intense alertness, she’d still had energy

  to burn. And Wes Masters was intriguing. Why was she here, who was

  she really? Understandable curiosity there, and she never could pass up

  a good mystery. But the going out to dinner with her? What was that

  all about? She hadn’t shared a meal with anyone other than fellow PPD

  agents in two years. She hadn’t had a dinner date, or a movie date, or any

  other kind of date in a long time. She’d had encounters, conversations

  in bars, a little bit of sex—enough to keep her from thinking about the

  • 59 •

  RADCLY fFE

  fact that she didn’t really have a personal life—until tonight. Probably

  not the smartest thing to do, sharing personal stuff before she’d had a

  chance to assess her professionally. She should’ve said no.

  “Why the hell did she even ask?” Evyn muttered. Ricochet didn’t

  answer. “It’s not like we have anything in common, and chances are

  we’re going to run into the old ‘whose responsibilities take precedence

  in event of emergency’ pretty fast. I can’t see her bending on much of

  anything.”

  Ricochet rolled onto his back, reminding her of priorities.

  “I can be flexible,” she said grumpily, rubbing his soft belly. “I’m

  just not, usually. Stick with what you know, right? Right?”

  She didn’t make mistakes with women because she never varied

  her pattern. Now she had, and she ought to be sorry. She wasn’t, and

  that was worrisome.

  v

  Wes woke before the alarm she’d set for 0600 and lay awake,

  waiting for the backup wake-up call she’d requested from the hotel

  operator when she’d finally hit the rack at 0200. She hadn’t slept well,

  but she wasn’t tired. She was used to broken sleep and catching what

  she could at odd hours. She still covered the ER often enough to keep

  in shape for the demands of emergency medicine. Good thing, because

  it sounded like her schedule was going to be anything but regular from

  now on. A buzz of excitement shot through her. She loved teaching, but

  she was looking forward to having boots on the ground again. Actually

  practicing what she preached, although her number one goal where

  her new job was concerned was to be certain she didn’t have to. She

  couldn’t wait to get a look at the WHMU emergency protocols. Maybe

  she’d been tapped for this job because her specialty was triage and

  emergency management. Whatever the reason, she’d find out pretty

  soon.The bedside phone rang and she picked it up. “Good morning,” a

  mechanical voice said, “this is your wake-up call…”

  Wes set the phone back in the cradle and swung out of bed. Evyn’s

  face surfaced in her mind, and she wondered if Evyn was still sleeping

  or if she was on her way to the House. She wondered how she’d slept

  and if she’d thought about their evening. She didn’t stop to ask herself

  • 60 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  why she’d awakened thinking about a woman for the first time in her

  life. Instead, she resolutely put thoughts of Evyn aside and hit the

  shower.

  Thirty minutes later, dressed in her regulation khakis, Wes grabbed

  a cup of Starbucks takeout coffee in the hotel lobby and took a cab to

  the White House. She walked around the Ellipse, familiarizing herself

  with the terrain.
She’d never been inside the White House before but

  assumed the fastest way to wherever she needed to go would be via

  the West Wing, where the bulk of the offices were located. At 0730,

  she approached the northwest gate and gave her name to the officer

  on duty. “I have an appointment at zero eight hundred hours with Ms.

  Washburn.”

  “One moment, please.” The White House Uniformed Division

  officer turned away and scanned a screen. A minute later he said, “You’re

  cleared to enter. You’ll want the elevator on your right. A staffer will

  meet you and take you up.”

  “Thank you.”

  Inside, Wes noted the sign for the emergency medical clinic in the

  Old Executive Office Building and walked past the hall to her new base

  until she found the elevators. She repeated her name and destination to

  the staffer in the elevator, and when she exited, another staffer escorted

  her to a waiting area. She sat and waited.

  At 0805, a young intern approached. He looked to be about twenty-

  two, buttoned down, slightly frazzled, with a friendly smile. “Captain

  Masters?”

  Wes stood. “That’s right.”

  “Ms. Washburn sends her apologies for keeping you waiting.

  She’s ready to see you now.”

  “Thank you.” She followed him through an archway, down a hall,

  and into another small waiting area. He tapped on the heavy, carved

  walnut door and responded to something that only he could hear. He

  pushed open the door, and Wes entered Lucinda Washburn’s office. The

  south lawn was visible opposite her through French doors framed by

  floor-to-ceiling white brocade drapes. The Oriental carpet under her feet

  looked expensive and old. A closed door on her left probably led into

  the Oval Office. Wes stood at parade rest in front of Ms. Washburn’s

  desk while the chief of staff signed off on a call.

  Lucinda replaced the handset, stood, and held out her hand. “Good

  • 61 •

  RADCLY fFE

  to see you again, Captain. Hang your coat up over there, and have a

  seat.”Wes shrugged out of her topcoat and added it to several other

  winter coats on a wrought-iron coat tree just inside the door. She took

  one of the two leather chairs facing the desk and waited.

  “Do you have any objections to taking a polygraph?”

  “No, ma’am,” Wes said, seeing that they were about to get directly